


After the Honeymoon Comes Reality

by LadyWithaQuill



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 17:25:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18077771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWithaQuill/pseuds/LadyWithaQuill
Summary: Not even a marriage could keep Sherlock and John apart.Johnlock.





	After the Honeymoon Comes Reality

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer  
> This story is based on the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's, Sherlock Holmes, as well as on the works of Mark Gatiss' and Steven Moffat's, Sherlock - BBC.  
> All characters, with the exception of a few names, are based on Sherlock BBC.  
> This story is pure fiction. Similarities to real people, places or events are entirely coincidental.  
> This story may be copied, distributed, reposted, reprinted and shared, provided it appears in its entirety without alteration, and the reader is not charged to access it.

John and Mary returned from their honeymoon. They had two weeks of bliss on an island in the South Pacific.  
Since their wedding day, Sherlock ignored John’s phone calls. He didn’t even come to wish them bon voyage on the airport as their other friends did.  
He kissed his new bride on the cheek, put his hand on her pregnant belly and smiled. “Keep the little guy safe and don’t exhaust yourself while I’m going to check on Sherlock.”  
Mary chuckled. “How do you now it’s a little guy? It might as well be a little girl.”  
He shrugged and let go of her baby bump. “Figure of speech, love.”  
She accompanied him to the door and remained standing in the doorway, waving him goodbye after he got into a taxi.  
“221B Baker Street,” he instructed the cabby and gazed out the window as the taxi cruised through the streets of London. How would Sherlock react seeing him again?  
Half an hour later, John stood in front of the apartment building he called home for three years. He smiled as he glanced at the doorknocker slanting to the right and shook his head before opening the door.  
Gunshots fired.  
His eyes enlarged.  
He charged upstairs and barged through the door, finding Sherlock with a gun in his hand, shooting at the wall. “What the hell are you doing,” he yelled.  
Sherlock stopped firing and turned around. “I’m bored,” he answered, turned back and fired another shot at the wall.  
John stormed up to him, reaching for the gun. “Give me that,” he said and grabbed it out of his hand. “What the hell is wrong with you?”  
“I told you. I’m bored.” He flopped sideways onto the couch, put his hand together under his chin as if he wanted to pray and shut his eyes.  
He put the gun on top of the mantelpiece and glanced at his ex. “Why are you still in your pajamas? It’s past noon already.”  
Sherlock opened his eyes and glared at him. “I don’t have any cases to solve.” He jumped up and paced towards John. “Aren’t you supposed to be on honeymoon?”  
“It was only two weeks and it ended today.”  
He snorted, walked past John to the kitchen and put the kettle on.  
“Aren’t you glad to see me, Sherlock?”  
He ignored the question.  
“I missed you at the airport two weeks ago. Everyone was there to say goodbye except you.”  
Sherlock kept quiet while making tea.  
John sighed after he seated on his favorite chair. “How are you holding up?”  
Sherlock brought the tea into the living room. He placed a cup on the side table next to John before he sat down in the chair opposite him.  
“Listen, you have to speak to me some time or the other.”  
He took a sip of tea and put the cup down. “You broke my heart, John.”  
He narrowed his eyes. “Is that why you left the wedding early?”  
Sherlock grimaced. “Why did you have to marry her? We were in love, John. Didn’t it mean anything to you?”  
He moved to the edge of the chair, placing his hand on Sherlock’s knee. “Don’t go there, please.”  
“You left me for a woman. I can never forget you for that.”  
John jumped out of the chair, his face red with anger. “You faked your own death and let me mourn for two years believing you were dead,” he yelled.  
Sherlock jumped up as well. “I tried to explain, but you didn’t want to listen. I did it to protect you.”  
“Like a fool I visited your grave every day. I cried myself to sleep every night.” He turned around, facing the wall. “I stood at your grave and I asked for a miracle. I asked you not to be dead.”  
Sherlock moved closer to him and whispered. “I know. I was there.”  
John flung around. “You saw me in pain, mourning, and you couldn’t tell me you were alive.”  
“I was working under cover. I had to keep it a secret, no one knew except Mycroft and…”  
John’s eyes enlarged. “Mycroft knew? Who else knew?”  
“Molly and a few others.”  
His face turned crimson. “How many, Sherlock?”  
“My street network.”  
He scoffed at him. “Well, that’s a few hundred. Did your parents –” John threw his hands in the air and snorted. “Of course, that’s why they weren’t at the funeral.”  
Sherlock moved closer until he stood against him. “I’m sorry. How many times do you want me to apologize?”  
John moved backwards trying to increase the distance between them, but Sherlock kept on stepping forward until John stood with his back against the wall.  
They gazed into each other’s eyes.  
“I missed you, John. I miss waking up in your arms.”  
“Stop it. Just stop it.” He put his hands on Sherlock’s chest, trying to push him away. “We’re not a couple anymore. Will you please step aside?”  
He reached for John’s buttocks, grabbed hold of it and pulled him up against his crotch while caressing his behind.  
“Stop groping my arse,” he cried out, jerking the hand off his rear end.  
Sherlock placed his hands around John’s head, bent over and kissed him on the lips.  
He turned his head away. “We can’t. I’m married now.”  
“I know you want to. I can feel it.”  
John turned his head, facing him again. He started panting as Sherlock pushed up against him, arousing him.  
He arched a brow when he felt the bulge in John’s trousers growing bigger. “Oh, I can feel you want me.”  
John’s lips parted. His chest heaved up and down as his breathing sped up.  
“Does Mary get this reaction from you?”  
He stuck the tip of his tongue out to wet his dry lips.  
“You shouldn’t do that. You know what it does to me, John.”  
“I know,” he muttered, breathing heavily. “Oh god, you’re confusing me.”  
Sherlock’s mouth came down on his lips, forcing them apart, exploring the inside of his mouth with his tongue. He grasped his butt again and drew John’s crotch up against his.  
John pulled away, placed his hands firmly on Sherlock’s chest and shoved him backwards.  
Crinkles formed between his eyes as he narrowed them in question. “What are you doing?”  
“This is what you want, isn’t it?” He continued pushing Sherlock backward until he ended up on the couch, and fell on top of him.  
Their lips met again, their hands all over each other.  
He pulled Sherlock’s pajama pants down and gasped aloud as he gazed at his erection. With difficulty, he tore his staring eyes away to unzip his denim jeans. John waited until he turned over onto his stomach, before he placed both hands under Sherlock’s hips and tugged his rear end upwards before entering him.  
He gasped aloud when John thrust his erected cock into him, repeatedly, each time harder than before. “Oh my god,” he cried out of enjoyment. “I’ve waited a long time for this.”  
John reached for Sherlock’s crotch and placed his hand around his erection, stroking it.  
They moaned with pleasure and found it difficult to keep their voices down.  
When they built up to a climax, they were unable to uphold the whispering moans any longer.  
Noises of satisfaction echoed through the flat as the two men exploded, reaching an orgasm.  
John withdrew before he fell on top of Sherlock to catch his breath.  
“Oh John, I miss this,” he mumbled out of breath. “I miss you. I miss us.”  
“I know,” he whispered and ruffled the curly black hair with his fingers. He sighed before he got up. He pulled the zipper of his jeans up and slapped Sherlock’s tight butt. “Better put on your pants before Missis Hudson barges through that door. We forgot to lock it.”  
Sherlock glanced at his watch after he stood up and snorted. “That will be anytime soon.” He pulled his pajama pants up, brushed his fingers through his hair and ruffled them a bit while taking a seat on the couch.  
Both men gasped aloud when the door opened and Missis Hudson made her appearance.  
“Coo-coo, I brought you some tea and biscuits,” she announced and entered uninvited.  
The two men glanced at each other and burst out with laughter.  
“Did I say something wrong?” she asked while stepping into the kitchen to put the tray on the table.  
Sherlock stopped laughing. “No Missis Hudson, you’re impeccable and so is your timing,” he said and chuckled again when he glanced at John.  
She shrugged and returned to the living room. Her eyes enlarged when she noticed the bullet holes in the wall. “What have you done to my wall, Sherlock?”  
“The wall had it coming,” he replied bluntly.  
She sighed before turning around to face John. “How was the honeymoon, dear?”  
He nodded. “The island was wonderful, beautiful actually. Great weather for the time we’ve been there.”  
“How’s the new bride and mum to be?”  
Sherlock’s face dulled. “Thank you for the tea and biscuits, Missis Hudson. Close the door on your way out.”  
“Always a pleasure, dear,” she said smiling, before she turned around and headed for the door. She paused in the doorway and turned back. “Sherlock, are you going to get a new flat mate now that –”  
“Missis Hudson,” he hollered, cutting her off mid-sentence.  
She flung around, hurried out of the flat and trotted down the stairs.  
John shut the door and glanced at him. “She’s just worried about you, all alone here in the flat, Sherlock.”  
“Alone is what I have. Alone protects me.” He jumped off the couch and headed over to the kitchen.  
John shook his head while following him. He pulled up a chair and sat down at the table. “We can’t do this again.”  
Sherlock put the teapot down. “What?” he asked while putting a cup of tea in front of John.  
His eyes enlarged. “That what happened over there,” he said, pointing to the couch.  
“Oh that.” He furrowed his brows. “Why not?”  
He snorted after reciting Sherlock’s last words. “Because that’s cheating, I’m cheating on my wife after only two weeks of marriage.”  
“Will I still see you or are you going to abandon me?”  
John grabbed one of the biscuits and dunked it in the tea. “Do you want me to help you solving cases again?”  
Sherlock smiled as he gazed into John’s eyes. “Of course, what will I do without my blogger?”

*The End*

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and leaving kudos ♥


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